Wishing Star
by The ORIGINAL Corky
Summary: Just a short, sweet, touching little one fic for Dutchy. Dutch thinks back on his life before being a newsie and wishes he could fix what he had done.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Dutchy or Pie Eater...all the others are mine. I also don't own the song "Somewhere, Out There" from 'An American Tale'.  
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**Author's Note: Just a sweet little one fic. Please read and review.**

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Dutchy stood on the rooftop to the Duane Street Lodging House staring out over the city. He could still hear his sister's laughter ringing in his ears and see her bright smile as she'd move to brush his bangs from his face. He could see her bustling around to get the cleaning done before their father returned from work, and smiling excitedly every time Dutchy would show her one of his new finds on the street—no matter how silly the finds were. Even though they had a sometimes-present father, she had been his only _real _family he could remember and he still hated himself for the way he just abandoned her.

For as long as he could remember, Madeline had been the closest thing to a mother he'd ever known. Their own mother died only a few days after giving birth to Jeremiah—Dutchy as he was now known by his friends—leaving an eight year old Madeline to do her best to keep their meager little family together. She had always done the best she could and there wasn't one single bad thing Dutch could say about that blue eyed angel he'd been blessed to have as a sister.

Being eight years older than he was, Madeline was naturally more mature than he and at the age of eighteen was to be married to the most prominent man in all of Von Speldon, Pennsylvania, the small Dutch town he'd been born in. Dutchy had been ten at the time and could not for the life of him figure out why his beautiful, smart, loving, and caring sister would do something so foolish as marry a man nearly twice her age. He knew what would happen once she married Hans Hammarskjold, she'd be forced to stay home and take care of his home and his children—a couple of whom he'd had from a previous marriage and were either the same age as Madeline or were a bit older than her—and worst of all, she'd be expected to bare him _more_ children! That thought alone had made ten year old Jeremiah sick to his stomach.

"_Try to understand, Remiah, Hans is a good man. He's promised to take care of both of us now that papa is gone. He's even said that he will get you back into school and should you like, make sure you get the finest art lessons money could buy. Just think, Remiah, your art could take you all around the world, make you a suave and sophisticated man like Hans is. People all over will know the name Jeremiah Cort." _ She had tried to tell him late one night as they sat perched on the wooden fence overlooking the field their father had died trying to plow.

"_I don't __want__ people to know my name! I don't want him to get me art lessons! I hate him! And I hate you for marrying him! If you marry him, I'm going to run away and you'll never see me again!"_

"_Jeremiah Lars Cort, I have heard enough out of you! No more protests! I am marrying Hans; I love him. Now go wash for bed."_

Dutchy had been furious with Madeline that night. As she'd been out sitting on the front porch of their humble little farm home, he had packed a small amount of clothes, some food, what little money he could find, and had scurried down the tree outside his bedroom window. He'd ran through the rows of baby soybean plants, dodging cattle as he darted through the pastures and across streams; he ran and ran until his feet and legs could carry him no further. Using some of the money he'd had, Dutchy bought a train ticket to the farthest place his few coins could carry him.

"_End of the line headin' East is Hoboken, that's as close to New York City as you're going to get with this line."_ The conductor said as the ten year old boy snuggled down into his overstuffed seat.

"_That's fine…I can find my way to my aunt's house from there."_

Thinking back on that night, Dutchy was sure the conductor had known he'd been lying about where he was heading by himself in the middle of the night. Once he'd made it to Hoboken, the blond boy with bright blue eyes managed to sneak onto a barge crossing the river and soon found himself wandering the busy streets of the only city he'd ever dreamed of one day seeing. It had been scary and exciting all at the same time as he stared in awe at all the buildings and people, hearing accents and languages he'd never in his life heard before.

Men hauling carts yelled to the passerby's, promoting their fresh from the farmer fruits or loaves of warm delicious bread. Women carrying baskets swayed as they moved briskly down the street, hurrying to return a businessman's best suit to him before that mornings meeting with the banker. Children his own age and younger laughed in the alley's as they played marbles or skipped rope. It certainly was the land of opportunity, and Dutchy was determined to prove he no longer required the aide of his foolish sister or her pompous fiancé. He'd closed his heart off to her; if she shed a tear when she found him gone that morning then it served her right for thinking he wouldn't go through with his threat to leave.

His first night alone in the city had been an exciting one. Dutchy had snuck in to see a small time vaudeville performance, had his first –and thus far only—taste of beer, lost a few penny's in a shell game, and had even been chased by an angry store owner when he'd tried to pocket a few pieces of candy. It was as he was running from the store owner that he literally ran into a slightly scared looking boy. Picking themselves up off the ground and quickly gathering their belongings, Dutchy had given him the once over. He was roughly his age, maybe a year older or so, with short brown hair, sad sunken in brown eyes, a bit of a longish face, and just a bit on the short-stocky side.

"_M-my name's P-Pie Eater. Dey call me d-dat cuz…I g-got caught st-stealin' a p-pie. What's y-your name?"_

"_I'm Jer…uhm…Dutchy. You can call me Dutchy."_

Pie Eater had become Dutchy's first friend in that strange new place, showing him different places to go and where not to go, and had even been the one to take him to the place Dutchy would soon come to call home, the Duane Street Newsboys Lodging House. There he'd met others like him, some runaways with a bad past behind them, some orphans with no place else to go, while others had a home with parents and family but would stay at the lodging house in order to make life a little easier on their burdened families. Sharing a bunk and room with other boys had been awkward for Dutchy when he first arrived, having never had to share a room or bed with anyone else before, but he soon found comfort in their companionship and it helped to make the dull ache for home hurt just a bit less.

Though Dutchy had told himself he no longer cared what his sister did with her life, nor did he care if she were happy with Hans or not, at night as he lie in bed staring out the window, his mind would drift and wander back to the gently rolling hills surrounding Von Speldon. The thought of knowing how much pain he'd probably brought his sister had brought tears to his eyes on more than one occasion and as he got older, Dutchy knew that she'd done nothing wrong by falling in love and wanting to get married. After all, Hans owned half the town which meant Madeline was sure to never be wanting for anything ever again. He would wonder what Madeline was doing that night, if she was entertaining guests in their fancy home on Anglo Street, or if she was out at a play.

Many nights, Dutchy would silently slip up to the rooftop and search the night sky until he found the North Star. He would sit for hours on the roof watching that star and thinking about his family's farm in Pennsylvania.

"_You see that star there, Remiah? That is the North Star. When you travel the world selling your art to all the fancy galleries in Paris and Rome, even if you travel to China to sell your art, you look up in the sky at night, find that star and know that I am here looking at that very same star praying for you and sending you all of my love. And if ever you are homesick, you close your eyes and know that I am missing you just as badly and know that we are both still sleeping under the same sky…and if we are still under the same sky, we truly can't be that far apart now can we?"_

Those words had gotten Dutchy through many hard nights throughout his life. True, he'd never gotten to travel the world selling his art—he hadn't even drawn a simple stick figure since his arrival in the big city—there were times though when he felt he was on the complete opposite side of the world as his beloved sister. When he'd turned sixteen, Dutchy had gone back to his childhood home in search of Madeline, hoping to apologize and let her see for herself that he'd been able to take care of himself and make it on his own. For days his stomach twisted and turned with anticipation of the trip. He'd been certain she would hug him close, tears streaming down her cheeks as she would move to hold him at arm's length and then brush his slightly shaggy bright blond bangs from his eyes just as she once would.

His feet seemed to move without him telling them which direction to go in when he left the very same platform he'd boarded from six years prior. Nothing had seemed to change. Cows still lazily grazed on grass as he strolled by, the rolling hills were lush with mid-summer crops, and the smell of open pastures and bubbling brooks filled his lungs and brought a smile to his face. Dutchy had walked for what felt like hours before he passed by the overgrown dirt lane that had once lead up to their five room farm house. He'd glanced down the lane in hopes of catching a glimpse of the first place he called home, but uncared for bushes, trees, weeds and grasses made it impossible.

Continuing down the beaten dirt road towards Von Speldon, Dutchy hummed to himself and didn't notice as the road become less and less dirt and more grass and shrubs. Finally, his feet slowed to a stop. The once booming community was no more. Few buildings still stood abandoned on what had been Main Street while others were piles of rubble, partially buried by weeds and shrubs. There were no more majestic houses lined with trees, what few houses did remain were falling to pieces from neglect and stood lonely on their block.

Dutchy's heart broke that day as he stood in the middle of town in utter bewilderment. What had happened to his hometown? Where had all of the farmers and merchants gone? True their town had only had a handful of people when Dutchy had still lived there, but surely not ever last living soul had just uprooted and moved away. Not even so much as a sign proclaiming a place had become vacant and could be bought was posted in store windows. Daring to move towards where Anglo Street had once been, Dutchy was devastated to find that Hans Hammarskjold's family home—the fancy house he had always pictured his sister holding elegant dinner parties in—looked as if it had simply exploded from within, sending pieces of wood and glass every direction and into the few trees that weren't uprooted.

His sister was gone.

Dutchy returned to Manhattan and the Duane Street Lodging House sullen and broken. He'd never gotten to tell her a proper goodbye. His friends had done their best to help him cope, Thumper—their resident 'Holy Man'—had even gathered their group together at a quiet place near the Hudson River for a makeshift memorial service for Madeline and her family.

Every night since that memorial service, Dutchy had gone to the rooftop to look for that old familiar star. Part of him prayed his sister was still alive and well, still looking to the North Star and sending him her love and prayers; while another part of him prayed to the heavens that she was happy in the arms of their mother and father again. Each night he would look to that star and make a wish that one day he would be with his sister once again and that she wouldn't hate him for running away from home the way he had.

It had been nearly twenty-five years now since Dutchy had learned of the destruction of his once hometown. Having taken over as owner of the Duane St. Lodging House, the forty-one-year-old with trimmed and combed blond hair, thin framed glasses sitting distinguishably in front of his still brightly shining blue eyes, Jeremiah Cort looked out over the city he'd come to call home.

"Miah? Maddy is asking for you; come meet your grandson."

Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled softly as he heard those words. Moving away from the edge of the building, he placed his hands on his wife's shoulders and gave a little nod.

"I'll be down in just a minute. You go back inside before you catch cold; you don't need to be out here in the snow."

Smiling softly, Ara Cort nodded as she moved to kiss Dutchy gently before patting his shoulder. "I will meet you in there. Don't be too long."

Dutchy gave a slight chuckle and smirk as he nodded, watching as his wife moved back for the stairway leading back into the warmth of the building below. As her back disappeared into the darkness, Dutch turned his attention back to the night sky. Though clouds covered what few stars he was still able to see at night, he knew exactly where to look.

"Congratulations, Ellie, wherever you are, you have a grand-nephew. One of these days we'll find each other again and you can meet him and the rest of my family. I love you, Madeline…and I'm missing you everyday."

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_Fifth Ave, overlooking Central Park. Same evening._

Madeline Hammarskjold stood at her window staring up at the sky. Snow and lights made it impossible for her to see the night sky, though that didn't detour her from huddling in her warmest coat at the open window to do her nightly ritual. Every night since she found her brother gone, Madeline had looked to the stars and prayed for his well being. Though she'd been heartbroken that he would truly leave her, in her heart she knew he would one day do great things with his life.

She swore she had seen him once before, after moving to the city after their home had been destroyed in the storm that brought their town to its knees. She had been out walking with her youngest son when she had seen a man who held a striking resemblance to Jeremiah carrying a small girl in his arms, strolling off towards the park. Though it had been a great many years since she had last seen her brother, Madeline wasn't quite sure if it was him or not. It was his smile and the way his eyes sparkled as he laughed that made her nearly certain that it had been him. Since that day nearly twenty years ago, she hadn't been able to find him or see him again.

"Ma? Caroline just phone…I have a daughter. I'm a daddy. Junior is going to take me to the hospital, you going to come with?"

Turning from her window, Madeline smiled at her youngest son brightly. Moving to pull him into a tight hug, she kissed his cheek before brushing his blond bangs from his blue eyes. "Oh Jerry, that's wonderful news. You two go on ahead, I'll be there shortly."

Jeremiah Hammarskjold smiled from ear to ear as he hugged his mother once more before bounding down the grand staircase of their upscale home. Watching as his shadow bounced off the cream colored walls as he rounded the corner, Madeline smiled as she moved back to her window and looked up into the sky.

"Remiah, one day I hope you get to meet your nieces and nephews, even if only by chance on the street. I'm still sending you all my love and praying for you. I miss you, Jeremiah and I hope you are doing what you love. We'll be together again one day."

_Somewhere, out there  
Beneath the pale moon light  
Someone's thinking of me  
And loving me, tonight _

_Somewhere, out there  
Someone's saying a prayer  
That we'll find one another  
In that big somewhere  
Out there…_

_And even though I know  
How very far apart we are  
It helps to think we might  
Be wishing on the same  
Bright star_

_And when the night wind  
Starts to sing a lonesome  
Lullaby  
It helps to think we're  
Sleeping underneath  
The same big sky_

_Somewhere, out there  
If love can see us through  
Then we'll be together  
Somewhere out there  
Out where dreams  
Come true_

_And even though I know  
How very far apart we are  
It helps to think we might  
Be wishing on the same  
Bright star_

_And when the night wind  
Starts to sing a lonesome  
Lullaby  
It helps to think we're  
Sleeping underneath  
The same big sky_

_Somewhere, out there  
If love can see us through  
Then we'll be together  
Somewhere out there  
Out where  
Dreams  
Come  
True…_


End file.
